The eMusic Dozen: Country for Rockers

This Texas singer-songwriter, who died on New Year's Day in 1997, left a catalogue of songs that are among the most moving, powerful, and emotionally complex of the 20th century. No kidding. He tended to play alone with just an acoustic guitar, a simple presentation that reflected the stark loneliness rampant in much of his music. This posthumously released album collects his earliest studio recordings from 1966, when his voice was young and supple, though his writing already reflected a maturity far beyond his age.

Hailing from Denver, of all places, the group's led by David Eugene Edwards, who's clearly channeling Nick Cave as much as Flannery O'Connor. No problem there: Cave's dark, intense brooding is a natural match for the sort of backwoods-bred rhythms and stark stillhouse melodies that Edwards favors. Almost more so than their studio albums, this live record from 1998 is a full-bodied representation of the band's moody, spooky sound.

Formerly a member of the Starkweathers before setting out solo (and getting signed to Sub Pop), Ireland did not grown up loving country--he came to love it only as an adult. His affection, though, is clear, both for Haggard-esque honky tonk but also smooth, laid-back '60s- and '70s-era countrypolitan, which his gentle, warm voice fits beautifully. His songwriting is stellar, the subject matter both down ("Right Back Where I Started") and upbeat ("Sweet Sweetheart"). Not very well known outside indie-rock and alt-country circles, Try Again is a genuine hidden gem.

For those who think country music is all about worshipping God, your guns, and your shiny new pick-up truck, this album cuts the crap with a jolt of left-of-center reality. Earle makes no bones about his politics and anti-war stance, but he's also one of the finest storytellers working the field today, so his songs about soldiers -- bitter and painful as they may at times be -- ring with honesty and truth.

Maybe you know the Louvin Brothers (Ira and Charlie), the '50s duo known for their unbeatable country harmonies. Take it back a couple decades, though, and you reach the Delmore Brothers (Alton and Rabon), a clear link between the Louvins and earlier acts like the Carter Family and Jimmie Rodgers. The Delmores' harmonies are equally pure and spine-tingling, and the development of their music as heard throughout these four CDs parallels that of country music as a whole, from gentle old-time acoustic songs in the 1930s to hillbilly boogie of the mid-'40s, uptempo electrified music that clearly foreshadowed rockabilly. Anyone who digs rich, tight harmonies will fall all over the Delmores.

During his nearly 50-year-long career, the late Doug Sahm proved a brilliant musical talent with a wide reach -- more so than any of his fellow Austinites, he had the impressive ability to meld honky tonk, blues, Tex-Mex, psychedelic rock, and just about any other style with which he came into contact. This album was his last, and it's as laid-back as a late-summer afternoon spent on a Texas porch with nothing more than cold beers, guitars, good friends, and all the time in the world. Like Sahm's dusty-warm voice, it's immensely likeable.